Okay, we made it. We're not done, but we made it through the most difficult part. Gahenna, the valley of death, Sheol, Hades... you get the picture. Yes, I'm talking about Pennsylvania. Last night at 10:00 our team reached its breaking point. Support team members were concerned we were pushing the limits of safety, people were tired, not ever getting more than 3 hrs. sleep at a time, Team Kiwanji (the other four riders) had just gone through more than their share of construction traffic in what amounted to a freeway bypass around Cooperstown, OH. Nerves were shot, emotions were running high. We were looking down the barrel of an all-nighter through the Appalachians on small two-lane winding roads with no shoulder, and while we were all parked outside this closed gas station debating... it began to rain.
The question effectively was "how to proceed?" And their were no shortage of opinions, having several type-A leaders on board. But Joe Johns, associate pastor of Fellowship in Fort Wayne reminded us that how we settle this matter was as important as the peace-building we hope to see happen. In the end humility on all sides won out, we spent time collectively in prayer, and delegated the final decision to three key players on the trip. One rider commented that that moment will be the highlight of the trip for him.
In the end, the decision was made that team Rubare (the team I was on) would continue as planned into the Appalatians with only the chase vehicle continuing. We would be a tight, nimble group, probably not get any sleep all night, and not be concerned about time or pace at all, but just moving forward. We put three bikes on the rack, Joe set out into the night on bike, and the mini-van followed right behind him with a driver and three riders inside.
The advantages to driving at night are: low traffic volume. The disadvantages are: well, you can't see more than 20 feet ahead of you, the roads are unfamiliar, there are drunk drivers (it was Saturday night), you are not extremely visible to other drivers... you get the picture.
And oh yeah, it was raining.
And foggy.
We went up hills that would go up and up and up without any foreseeable end. We passed by a recently overturned 4x4. Twice riders got off and walked. One cramped up. Sometimes we cheated and held on to the chase van's open front window to help pull us up the extra grade. I continually rode in my granny gear (the bottom sprocket on the front cog of my bike), something I never do at home. But consistently we made it to the tops.
And then we had to go down.
Did I mention it was raining?
When you are riding a bike and finally crest a hill and pass by road signs telling trucks to shift into a low gear because of a 14% grade for the next mile and a half you should be elated.
We were terrified.
Bicycle brakes aren't notorious for working well in the rain, and we were about to put ours to the ultimate stress test. Eventually we made it back to saner pastures, breaking into the more rolling foothills of rural Pennsylvania, passing by within three miles of the crash site of Flight 93 on 9/11. We were thankful for a better landing.
It was rigorous and treacherous, but we made it. And by tomorrow at this time, I will be at Hollander Cafe in downtown Wauwatosa on my way home from Mitchel Airport enjoying a Hot Mess (yes, that is on the breakfast menu).
But for many Congolese, their ordeal is far from over. Indeed it may never be over until Jesus, the Prince of Peace comes to renew this Earth. In Matthew 13, Jesus promises in one of my favorite verses that he will come again and "weed out from the earth all who do evil and everything that causes sin." The Shalom of God will prevail and dominate the earth. There will be no more injustice. There will be no more pain. The world will be a safe place for people once again.
But in the meantime, he calls us, his followers to strive for this shalom, to work for it, to pray for it, knowing perhaps that it will never perfectly be manifested outside of the return of the King, but as his subjects we are to demonstrate it in our lives and actions. Jesus said that we are the light of the world (Matthew 5). Light is meant to shine not in light, but in darkness. We are invited to invade and penetrate some of the darkest places with the light of Jesus and his coming Kingdom. There are many dark places to be sure, but the one that has been put on our plate as a community, so to speak, is Eastern Congo. In just a few hours all eight riders will rendezvous 30 miles outside of Baltimore and ride into the city together.
But my prayer is that the Race for Congo is far from over. May the interest and engagement and generosity and prayer and repentance and change in lifestyle continue unabated well into the future.
And may His Kingdom come, and His will be done in Congo, just as it is always done in Heaven.
Peace.
Mike
Sunday, August 7, 2011
The Breaking Point
"Be glad you didn't come on this trip".
Those were Mike's words to me moments ago on a quick phone call. After a week of me saying: "I don't think I could have done it" and him saying: "Oh sure you could have" these were his first words. "It's become everything you would have feared: mountains, fog, darkness, rain, zero visibility".
As the team rolled into Pennsylvania they seemed to have hit that moment that most short term teams hit (if you've been on one you know what I mean), when it all becomes too much. Stress and exhaustion in the face of real (not perceived) danger, bubbles over. They were facing mountains with unending switchbacks in the rain, fog and dark.
After a two hour all- team meeting of decision and prayer what it came down to is that Mike's team of four (with one driver) forged forward being both the chase vehicle and the rider...one van with three bikes on the back rack and a rider in front. "We've been going all night". He said. "We do 15 miles at a time."
For you bikers you'll understand: "it's been switchbacks in granny gear, constantly looking for more gear but it's not there, you get to the top and want to cruise down but there is rain, fog and signs everywhere telling trucks to be cautious."
The rest of the crew and the other team (on whom the Tetons fell solely and squarely if you've been following) are trying to get some much needed rest.
My thoughts turn to the Congolese World Relief team living in the epi-center of the conflict, danger and horror of Eastern Congo. Day after day they soldier on. An unwavering hope in a God who seems to have forgotten that they exist. Facing personal tragedy (death is so near to everyone in Eastern Congo) and hearing, seeing unimaginable pain and tragedy every day. They cannot give up. They cannot leave. They cannot stop. There are no easy answers. You do not tell them: "God works all things together for good...". How can you?
Yet their Hope still rises. Like an amazing flower pushing up through a heap of ashes. Far more beautiful than the hope I have. And so you sit at their feet in awe and amazement. They are true heroes. Their faith dwarfs mine. They are those of whom the world is not worthy.
I find myself longing for their faith and hope but God reminds me quietly that it does not come while I live my life here in the Disney Land of the world...in padded ease and comfort. It comes when all hope in this life is gone. Yet He remains. And in Him we lay our full hope.
I will pray for both teams today. May God meet them in that desperate place and remind them that He is and always will be our only Hope in this life.
Those were Mike's words to me moments ago on a quick phone call. After a week of me saying: "I don't think I could have done it" and him saying: "Oh sure you could have" these were his first words. "It's become everything you would have feared: mountains, fog, darkness, rain, zero visibility".
As the team rolled into Pennsylvania they seemed to have hit that moment that most short term teams hit (if you've been on one you know what I mean), when it all becomes too much. Stress and exhaustion in the face of real (not perceived) danger, bubbles over. They were facing mountains with unending switchbacks in the rain, fog and dark.
After a two hour all- team meeting of decision and prayer what it came down to is that Mike's team of four (with one driver) forged forward being both the chase vehicle and the rider...one van with three bikes on the back rack and a rider in front. "We've been going all night". He said. "We do 15 miles at a time."
For you bikers you'll understand: "it's been switchbacks in granny gear, constantly looking for more gear but it's not there, you get to the top and want to cruise down but there is rain, fog and signs everywhere telling trucks to be cautious."
The rest of the crew and the other team (on whom the Tetons fell solely and squarely if you've been following) are trying to get some much needed rest.
My thoughts turn to the Congolese World Relief team living in the epi-center of the conflict, danger and horror of Eastern Congo. Day after day they soldier on. An unwavering hope in a God who seems to have forgotten that they exist. Facing personal tragedy (death is so near to everyone in Eastern Congo) and hearing, seeing unimaginable pain and tragedy every day. They cannot give up. They cannot leave. They cannot stop. There are no easy answers. You do not tell them: "God works all things together for good...". How can you?
Yet their Hope still rises. Like an amazing flower pushing up through a heap of ashes. Far more beautiful than the hope I have. And so you sit at their feet in awe and amazement. They are true heroes. Their faith dwarfs mine. They are those of whom the world is not worthy.
I find myself longing for their faith and hope but God reminds me quietly that it does not come while I live my life here in the Disney Land of the world...in padded ease and comfort. It comes when all hope in this life is gone. Yet He remains. And in Him we lay our full hope.
I will pray for both teams today. May God meet them in that desperate place and remind them that He is and always will be our only Hope in this life.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Last day of riding and difficult conditions
The riders are biking in Pennsylvania with fog, rolling hills and possible rain. 20 hours to go until they finish in Baltimore. It might feel like the longest day so far.
From Kara...
Thanks to everyone who sent me notes of encouragement and prayers! I'm so glad I went yesterday. Many of you know, I really wanted to be one of the riders in the Race for Congo but it turned out in the end best that it be Mike. So yesterday when I arrived in Polo and picked a spot to wait for them to roll past me, I had a good reality check of just what it's like for the riders...
There was no breeze and high humidity so I was sweating just sitting there. Then I learned that, because the chase vehicle drivers were in desperate need of rest, the team was without a chase vehicle for the day. This meant that the riding team would take the van about 5 miles up the road, park and wait for the rider to catch up, cheer him on, then hop another 5 miles up the road. For those of you know my biking accident history and my tendency towards panic on the road, you'll understand how I felt when Mike said to me on the phone: "we won't have a chase vehicle, honey". And then when I told him that the route we're taking (that I had just driven through) was on a main road, 2 lanes of traffic both ways right through the down town and perhaps we should look for an alternate he said: "We're just going to have to do it, it's what we've been doing all day".
Gulp.
"This is not what I signed up for." was the first thought in my head. I just wanted to ride with my husband with a nice safe chase vehicle protecting us from behind on a nice wide open road with a big fat shoulder. And then God said quietly: "but this is what it takes to do this ride, Kara". Humbled, I hunkered down, prayed and waited for the van.
When Mike and I took off, sure enough we rode right through the down town, at one point had cars on both sides of us while I was letting out loud yelps of "Oh Gosh, oh my!". Soon though we were out on the open rode, however it lacked a shoulder. So we were very close to traffic.
My valiant (and fatigued) husband rode behind me and we biked as fast as we could for 26 miles. At one point he yelled up: "Isn't this GREAT?! We have the best life!!!!". And I yelled back: "we sure do, but I'm hoping it doesn't end when one of these trucks picks us off because they can't see us!"...he yelled back some profound answer about that would be God's timing etc. but I couldn't hear him over the din of the truck that was rumbling past :-) . That's our marriage in a nutshell I guess...Mr. Visionary married to Chicken Little.
When we met up with the van we said a quick and sweaty goodbye as they had to catch up to the rider who was already on his way, pedaling up the road.
Mike thanked me multiple times for coming and passes on his greetings and thanks to everyone for your prayers and support. They've got about 30 hours left, may the awareness they've raised for Congo reach far and wide and be long lasting and effective in bringing about change and hope!
Sincerely,
Kara
There was no breeze and high humidity so I was sweating just sitting there. Then I learned that, because the chase vehicle drivers were in desperate need of rest, the team was without a chase vehicle for the day. This meant that the riding team would take the van about 5 miles up the road, park and wait for the rider to catch up, cheer him on, then hop another 5 miles up the road. For those of you know my biking accident history and my tendency towards panic on the road, you'll understand how I felt when Mike said to me on the phone: "we won't have a chase vehicle, honey". And then when I told him that the route we're taking (that I had just driven through) was on a main road, 2 lanes of traffic both ways right through the down town and perhaps we should look for an alternate he said: "We're just going to have to do it, it's what we've been doing all day".
Gulp.
"This is not what I signed up for." was the first thought in my head. I just wanted to ride with my husband with a nice safe chase vehicle protecting us from behind on a nice wide open road with a big fat shoulder. And then God said quietly: "but this is what it takes to do this ride, Kara". Humbled, I hunkered down, prayed and waited for the van.
When Mike and I took off, sure enough we rode right through the down town, at one point had cars on both sides of us while I was letting out loud yelps of "Oh Gosh, oh my!". Soon though we were out on the open rode, however it lacked a shoulder. So we were very close to traffic.
My valiant (and fatigued) husband rode behind me and we biked as fast as we could for 26 miles. At one point he yelled up: "Isn't this GREAT?! We have the best life!!!!". And I yelled back: "we sure do, but I'm hoping it doesn't end when one of these trucks picks us off because they can't see us!"...he yelled back some profound answer about that would be God's timing etc. but I couldn't hear him over the din of the truck that was rumbling past :-) . That's our marriage in a nutshell I guess...Mr. Visionary married to Chicken Little.
When we met up with the van we said a quick and sweaty goodbye as they had to catch up to the rider who was already on his way, pedaling up the road.
Mike thanked me multiple times for coming and passes on his greetings and thanks to everyone for your prayers and support. They've got about 30 hours left, may the awareness they've raised for Congo reach far and wide and be long lasting and effective in bringing about change and hope!
Sincerely,
Kara
Friday, August 5, 2011
Reflections from Kara...
Today I had the honor of joining the Race for Congo team for 1% of the ride. I met up with the team in Polo, ILL and a short while later, Joe finished his leg and Mike and I raced off south on HWY 52 for his first 26 mile leg of the day. I came away from my time with the team with some realizations...
• One of my favorite places to be, in all the world, is on a bike next to my husband.
• While the send off video and the pictures may make this ride seem like lots of fun, the truth is, it comes down to hour after slow hour of inching across this great country on whatever roads come their way, whatever hills, whatever traffic and whatever weather.
• Though friends and family are at home reading the blogs and looking at the pictures; on the road it's just you, your God and your thoughts. That can feel lonely.
• Now that the chase vehicle is resting during the day (they need sleep too!!!) it can feel vulnerable riding on a county road with no shoulder and lots of big trucks rumbling past.
• Remembering the 'why' takes constant mental discipline.
• 3 hours, or 11 hours is not a very long time for recovery when you are biking as hard as you can.
So now I sit in my comfortable home, I've showered and eaten and tonight I'll sleep in my cozy bed...all night. But the guys and the crew are still out there, slowly inching their way across the country. Something inside me wants for the country to cease all activity and become aware that they are doing this. I want the cars to pull way over and give them space, I want the state troopers to let them ride where they want to, I want people to line the streets and yell encouragement to them as they go. If it was their husband/brother/father/son they would...wouldn't they?
And I guess if the girls, gramma's, women, pregnant ladies, babies (and yes, even boys and men) who were being raped or killed like they are right this moment in Eastern Congo were our daughters, sisters, moms, grammas, babies, or it was happening to our neighbor, we too would want to scream out for the world to cease all activity and notice us...wouldn't we?
May we live our lives remembering and be a voice for the voiceless.
Kara
• One of my favorite places to be, in all the world, is on a bike next to my husband.
• While the send off video and the pictures may make this ride seem like lots of fun, the truth is, it comes down to hour after slow hour of inching across this great country on whatever roads come their way, whatever hills, whatever traffic and whatever weather.
• Though friends and family are at home reading the blogs and looking at the pictures; on the road it's just you, your God and your thoughts. That can feel lonely.
• Now that the chase vehicle is resting during the day (they need sleep too!!!) it can feel vulnerable riding on a county road with no shoulder and lots of big trucks rumbling past.
• Remembering the 'why' takes constant mental discipline.
• 3 hours, or 11 hours is not a very long time for recovery when you are biking as hard as you can.
So now I sit in my comfortable home, I've showered and eaten and tonight I'll sleep in my cozy bed...all night. But the guys and the crew are still out there, slowly inching their way across the country. Something inside me wants for the country to cease all activity and become aware that they are doing this. I want the cars to pull way over and give them space, I want the state troopers to let them ride where they want to, I want people to line the streets and yell encouragement to them as they go. If it was their husband/brother/father/son they would...wouldn't they?
And I guess if the girls, gramma's, women, pregnant ladies, babies (and yes, even boys and men) who were being raped or killed like they are right this moment in Eastern Congo were our daughters, sisters, moms, grammas, babies, or it was happening to our neighbor, we too would want to scream out for the world to cease all activity and notice us...wouldn't we?
May we live our lives remembering and be a voice for the voiceless.
Kara
Films about Congo showing this month
August 10th, 7pm "Pray the Devil Back to Hell," West Bend Library
August 17th, 7pm "The Greatest Silence: Rape in the Congo," West Bend Library
August 25th, 7pm "Pushing the Elephant," Candlelight Collective
All of these films will give a picture of the situation in Congo.
August 17th, 7pm "The Greatest Silence: Rape in the Congo," West Bend Library
August 25th, 7pm "Pushing the Elephant," Candlelight Collective
All of these films will give a picture of the situation in Congo.
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